The Chronicle of a Reformed Feminist Killjoy

Shit I learned while traveling in a van

That inspiration can be found just as easily on the road as at home. It can also be just as elusive. In fact, inspiration may have absolutely nothing to do with where you are, but might be a state of mine.

Pubic hair is natural and trying to dry shave in the woods will cause you infinitely more discomfort than just letting go of societal confines.

Some mountains are not worth climbing. This is a metaphor for life. If the scenery hasn’t changed after a certain elevation, just turn the fuck around.

As a woman you CAN in fact pee anywhere. You may choose not to, but it is in fact possible.

Peeing outside is liberating.

Peeing outside in the dessert where tarantulas live is frightening.

Fashion is great, but function is necessary.

If you can live in a van with someone for a month and not kill them, you might be soul mates.

Sleep is overrated.

We shower WAY too much in everyday life.

You should NOT eat fast food. Like ever. Not even on the road. Just don’t do it. Unless part of your road experience is never pooping properly again.

You should drink liquor with strangers.

You should talk to strangers.

Don’t talk to dangerous strangers.

There is nothing in Idaho but factory farms and outcroppings of outrageous looking volcanic rock, but you should drive through it anyway.

America is cow country. So many fucking cows.

After you leave the east coast it’s probably ok to pick up hitch hikers.

Fucking Kansas has some shady laws about pulling over cars to search for drugs. Read up on that and act accordingly.

National Park Rangers are rude and essentially federal rent-a-cops with AK-47’s. Treat them with respect or they will really make your life awful.

Don’t bring drugs. Bring some weed. Not a lot and not anything you can’t get rid of really fast if you get pulled over. Anything else is seriously not worth the risk.